What's Important
by Ruralstar
Summary: A conversation between two colleagues outside of the ER. Post 5x13 "Stairway to Heaven" fic


Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC television, Shondra Rhimes and Co. No copyright infringement is intended.

What's Important

Miranda Bailey stood outside the glass doors of the ER hunkered down into the collar of her coat. Owen stopped walking just within the doors and pondered what, if anything, he might say to her. He knew it had been a tough day. The various personal and professional traumas he had endured were no match for the drama surrounding a dying child and the attempted suicide of William Dunn. Watching her shiver, Owen felt one step removed. His conversation with Cristina following Mark's procedure had eased the weight upon his shoulders. She was willing to try again. That simple acceptance allowed him to openly acknowledge the problems that would face them both. Owen sighed deeply. He was grateful, but painfully aware that he was not the only Doctor at Seattle Grace laboring under the strain of what could not be said. A not dissimilar weight now lay heavily on the woman standing in the cold.

Owen shrugged on his jacket and waved good night to the nurses on duty before stepping outside. Bailey did not move as his footsteps drew near and he stopped abreast of her. He made a show of zipping his coat and fishing gloves from his pockets as he studied her out of the corner of his eye. The normally dark skin was tinged with grey and her lips were pressed into a flat line. Bailey's gaze did not waver from a fixed contemplation of the cracked asphalt beneath their feet. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and her legs braced stiffly apart. She seemed a pillar without life save for the waves of distress radiating outward with a force that lifted the fine hairs on the back of Owen's neck.

He did not have to see her eyes to know the haunted look that rested there. Every morning he was presented with the same vision in the bathroom mirror. The details of William Dunn's emergency surgery had grown exponentially as the rumor mill spun them around the hospital. Owen did not know what was the truth at this point. He had not enquired out of professional respect. Standing here beside the statue of his colleague, he suddenly wished he had.

"You look tired, Dr. Hunt." Bailey quietly observed.

Owen smiled self-consciously, unaware that she had even looked up. "Long day."

"Tell me about it."

"I heard that the Prescott boy might pull through. Congratulations."

Bailey shook her head and stared resolutely at the ground.

Owen forced his hands into his pockets. "Tough case," he murmured, inviting her to pick up the thread of the conversation.

"Children…" she drew a breath and blew it out in a stuttering stream of white puffs. "I could never make it in Pediatrics." Owen stood silent as she pursed her lips and sighed again. "I would do anything for my son. I would…I did…" she swallowed audibly. "Children shouldn't die, Dr. Hunt."

A kaleidoscope of images slid across Owen's vision. Each detail was distinct and each face seemed younger than its predecessors. He nodded and forced his clenched hands to relax in his pockets. "No, they shouldn't."

Bailey's dull brown eyes flicked up and met his, holding steady for a long moment. "I was willing to throw my professional career out the window just to see that boy live." She looked away. "I would have done _anything_. That's a scary, scary thought."

A tremor of empathy shimmied up Owen's spine. He stepped forward enough to catch her eye. "That's why you would make a good pediatric surgeon," he said. "You know that being a good doctor isn't just about the medicine."

Bailey shook her head dismissively. "I fought but it wasn't because of me that Jackson Prescott is going to survive."

"Don't minimize your importance to that kid and his family, Miranda."

She brought both hands to her face and stood very still, breathing slowly and loudly in the silence. "I should have been more objective," she whispered eventually as the hands fell away. "I'll pay for it. But honestly…" She looked up into Owen's face, a pale smile resting on her lips. "I really don't give a damn."

He laughed softly and felt the tension ebb as her smile widened.

Bailey cocked her head. "Long night, too?" she noted with a gesture to his face.

Ordinarily, Owen's defenses would have slammed into place at the remark. In the wake of Cristina's acceptance he felt freer to contemplate who and what he had become. Bailey's voice held a maternal note, her livening gaze now soft. He allowed a watery smile. "Something like that."

"Alone?"

Owen considered the nature of the question. Surprised at how easy it was to dismiss the instinctive assumption of intrusion and substitute the knowledge that Miranda Bailey could not help but care. For him. For anyone. "No," he answered eventually. "It was a long night for her, too."

Bailey snorted a laugh. "I hear that."

She thought she had hit the mark and it pleased her. Owen let the conclusion lay unchallenged. "On your way home?" he asked.

She sobered instantly. "I never left the hospital last night. My son is going to forget who I am…"

Owen shook his head and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Impossible." He squeezed gently, pleased to see the light reignite in her eyes. "Have a good night, Miranda."

"Get some sleep, Owen."

He turned away and started across the parking lot. Maybe, just maybe, he would.

~THE~END~


End file.
